Page 5

Chapter 4

New Year’s Eve

Sydney

I ’m in the kitchen when I hear the bells jingle on the doors. Carrying a tray of dog kibbles, I head out to bag them up and expect to see my cousin here to pick up his pup food, but it’s not Liam. It’s … him, and he’s alone.

Grabbing a handful of dried meats off the tray, he groans, “Oh my God, tell me this is like coco puffs.” He pops it into his mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I say as I hurry to set the tray down, grab a napkin, and hold it out. “Spit.”

His brows rise in shock, clearly a little disturbed by whatever he’s got in his mouth.

“It’s kibbles.”

He still looks confused.

“Dog food.”

He quickly takes the napkin and empties the mouthful into the pink paper. “What?”

“Liam is working on some ideas.” Regardless of how hard I’m trying not to laugh at his expense, a giggle escapes.

“I see that.” He chuckles.

“I’m so sorry,” I call to him as I grab a glass of water and hurry back to him.

“Don’t be sorry. That’s what I get for walking in here and grabbing a handful of your goodies without permission on a day you’re not even open.”

Tingles begin to climb up my spine at the lilt of smolder in his tone, which he only uses when we’re alone. This means I’m not sure if it’s imagined or real … But it really doesn’t matter, does it, Sydney? I scold myself.

“Serves me right for allowing myself to become an addict.” He takes the chocolate cupcake with caramel topping that I offer him.

“Just say no,” I tease as he peels back the paper and shoves the whole thing in his mouth.

“I’ve always been more the just-do-it kind of guy,” he says then moans around the cupcake. “Fuck, these get better every time.”

“Secret?” I ask while scooping up Liam’s kibble and putting them in the clean, gallon-sized pail. He brought the meat. “That cupcake is sweetened with honey only.”

“No sugar?” he asks, licking his giant-sized fingers, which I do my best to ignore.

“The cupcake, no. The frosting, I’m still working on that.” I turn to grab another tray from the freeze-dryer.

“You’re kissing it, Syd.”

I could have sworn he said kissing it, but I know better. “You’re killing it, Syd” is the kind of thing he says all the time. He’s like the walking motivational post on social media. And me? I’m trying to dirty it up.

“Mind if I grab a dozen for the thing?”

“You grab as many as you want.” I smile as I turn another tray in hand. “Just not anything off these trays.”

“Not gonna lie, it wasn’t awful.” He chuckles as he walks around the counter and grabs a box from under the counter. “Wonder how much protein a serving of that has?”

“Ew, no.”

“Ew, no?” He chuckles.

I set the tray next to the bucket, and unable to help myself, I tease, “Jerky’s a better option than kibble. I’m making some for AJ to return to college with him.”

“You freeze-dry jerky?”

“Dehydrate,” I call back to him as I once again exit the area, wanting to create distance. It’s a good thing I have an excuse. I need to get the rest of AJ’s treats inside the machine that I’m considering climbing. The freeze dryer or dehydrator, I’m not picky—either would work on one of two issues I have in his presence, especially when we’re alone … and that only happened one other time—the kiss.

“Didn’t know you were hiding a dehydrator back there,” he calls to me.

“The hunters love it,” I call back.

The bells jingle.

“Hey.”

“Liam, right?” Beau asks, which answers the question as to who’s here.

“We’ve met a few times over the past couple years. Good to meet you again.”

“Damn sure it is hard trying to keep you all straight. Now I know how the folks back home feel.”

With one tray on each hand, I walk out and place them on the counter. “I believe this is it.”

“Talk about shrinkage.” Liam chuckles.

“They may be small, but those things pack a punch.” Boone chuckles, and I can’t help but laugh, too.

“You ate a piece?” Liam asks.

“Trust me; it was not by choice. It was purely an accident,” Boone answers.

“He did say it wasn’t bad.” I grin. “I bet those pups are going to love it.”

“You’ve got the Boone seal of approval.” He lifts two thumbs-up and smiles.

“That’s one hell of an endorsement,” Liam states, a bit too dryly for my liking, but Beau doesn’t seem to notice.

“All right, well, if I don’t see you all at the Brewery, Happy New Year’s Eve.” Beau holds up the box of cupcakes. “See you ’round.”

“See you around,” I say back and watch as he walks out into the cold and to his vehicle before rounding on Liam. “What was that?”

“What? Was polite.”

“Is there any reason you shouldn’t be?” I force a laugh—yes, force—because yeah, that’s yuck behavior.

“Something I couldn’t shake with his ex—or whatever she is—yesterday. Acted like a kicked puppy.”

“I can assure you Boone’s not a puppy kicker, or his ex or whatever, which, by the way, it’s he who wants things to work out with them, and she doesn’t seem to want it, so I wouldn’t say he’s the bad guy in this.”

“So, you think she is?”

“Not saying that either, not after yesterday. It’s the first time I’ve met her. Yes, she seems skittish, but I can promise you that boy would never hurt someone on purpose.”

“He’s full of testosterone; he’s a football player, Syd.”

“He plays offense,” I snip and realize I’m being ridiculous. “I am not fighting with you about Beau Boone or the lovely Lindsay, who I believe just felt out of sorts around me, but she and I are going to be best friends.”

“You have a lot of best friends.” Liam chuckles.

“You can never have too many.” I wink.

Standing back, I survey the dessert bar in the back corner of the Brewery. The table is covered in a crisp, black linen cloth, the perfect backdrop for the colorful array of treats. Basketsful of homemade chocolate chip cookies, platters full of frosted cupcakes with intricate designs, and delicate macarons line the table. In the center, proudly standing tall, is a black-frosted, three-tiered cake adorned with a gold Knights’ emblem, and yes, I mastered that thing and have at least twenty edible Knights’ emblems in the freezer at all times, because that’s now what every kid wants on their birthday cake around here, even the girls.

Smaller jars hold toppings for the sundae bar Riley and Lauren, who own Brooks Brewery, insist on every New Year’s, and there is a space open for Aunt Tessa to place Lucas’s birthday cake.

I can hear the laughter and chatter of the staff who are being dismissed to leave and get ready for tonight as the Ross family, which means all of us, will take over as hosts and staff for the evening so that everyone can celebrate the new year. We started this a couple of years ago, and it has become an annual occurrence. We’ll be driving people home so they don’t drink and drive, and we will be having one hell of a good time doing so.

Within an hour, the place is filling up; some people are drinking, others head straight for the buffet lines and fill their plates. Glasses are clinking, the twinkling lights hang above us, the hums of conversation involving well wishes, congratulations and, of course, this is gonna be our years. It’s a warm and inviting scene, one that we have created with love and care, hoping to bring joy to everyone around us.

Harper stands beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Lord, no.” I laugh. “I would not burden you with what’s going on in my head right now.”

“Then quickly make up a story; tell me something good, Sydney.” Harper yawns.

I can’t help but laugh. “Did you just yawn?”

“I did. Let me be brutally honest with you,” she whispers, “I would rather be home and in footy pajamas, sitting in front of a fire with my hot as hell husband strumming his guitar than all dolled up here tonight, and I know that makes me an asshole, but it can’t be helped.”

From behind me comes a loud laugh. “Please tell me that you shared with Sydney, too, so I’m not the only one here thinking you’re a giant baby right now.”

I look her over—and I am talking from top to bottom—inspecting her as if it were my job. Then I shake my head. “As two women who have grown children inside your bodies and pushed them out of your vaginas, I would expect more from you.”

“No way,” Harper gasps. “It’s not possible.”

“I call bullshit.” I shoo her away. “Go take a test, and then, by all means, go put on those damn pajamas and get freaky with your hot husband.”

I hear someone coughing—no, choking—from the end of the table, and of course—of freaking course—it’s Boone.

“All righty, you all have fun. I’m going to get changed.”

I watch as the mother and daughter, dressed similarly, take a spin around on the dance floor. They are dressed in a coordinating color—a pale pink. Lily’s little dress has gold glitter, and as she whirls around the dance floor, blonde curls bouncing with every spin, her face lights up with joy as she follows her daddy’s lead.

I glance over and see Lindsey walking off the dance floor. I smile when our eyes meet and wave her over.

She points to the bathroom and holds up one finger, mouthing, “ The bathroom .”

Unsure if she’s using it as an excuse or maybe wants me to follow, ’cause you know we ladies don’t use the restroom alone, typically, I decide to stay put. And that’s when the song changes.

I watch Boone swoop up Lily and proceed to sing along to the song, Kane Brown’s “For My Daughter.”

“ They say history repeats itself. Well, I guess that’s up to me. Yeah, I grew up without a dad. I’m gonna be the best one I can be .”

Nope, I am not going to stand here and get all gooey watching this …

I turn and damn near knock poor Lindsey over.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I was just heading your way.”

“The line is crazy long,” she warns from beside me.

“I’ll show you a secret bathroom,” I say as I turn and see the line is, in fact, long, but it’s also … problematic at the moment.

“You’re nothing but a whore, Allegra. Never gonna be nothing but,” Sienna Gaines, wife of Jordan Gaines, the Knights left defensive end and a notorious man whore.

“ I’m a whore?” The apparent other woman huffs. “You met J selling your pussy at clubs, and I’m the whore?”

“This is not happening here. It’s New Year’s Eve,” I say over them.

“Who the fuck are you, big girl Barbie, thinking you?—”

“Are you kidding me?” Lindsey gasps.

“I’m Sydney fucking Sparks, that’s who I am,” I say as Sienna Gaines lunges at the other woman and I get smackdab between them. “And I said enough!”

“This Podunk football league gives whores and porn stars access to our men!”

“Totally team Allegra right now,” Lindsey’s muffled voice comes from behind me.

I bite back a laugh and yell a little louder, “For you right close to me and the bitches in the back, I’m no porn star. I am part of this Podunk team.” I shove against her as the feral group behind push her against me. “And I said, enough! ”

I shove the slightly stunned Sienna Gaines. “Now, you and the rest of the women ”—I point over her head to the bitches pushing her into me—“step the hell back.”

Ten minutes later, I’m in the kitchen with Mom, the aunts, Tessa, Phoebe, Jade, and Lindsey.

“ Do you know who I am ?” Jade does her best impression of a rich snob, something we all try to avoid acting like.

Lindsay covers her mouth to hide her laugh.

“You could have played the Boone card,” I accuse on a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure owner card trumps players, baby momma,” she shoots back, and it’s quick, real quick, and it makes me like her even more.

“There you are, Mommy!” Lily says, walking in the kitchen, pulling Riley behind her, and Boone and Hart are behind them. “And Sydney, too?”

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Lily,” I say. “Your dress and your mommy’s are stunning.”

“Yours and your mommy’s, too.” She jumps up a little with excitement then squats down and looks at my shoes. “Do they have red bottoms?”

“Nope.” I show her the bottoms. “Alexandre Birman.”

“Fancy,” Tessa chides.

“Hot off the clearance rack at the end of last season.” I smile.

“My girl loves a good sale,” Mom says proudly.

“And after Uncle Lucas’s cake is served, these boots are going to turn into UGG slippers, and I am going to sit in front of my fireplace and probably pass out before the ball even drops.”

“You could come hang out at Hart’s place, right?” Lindsey asks Beau, and he nods. “The pups are going to watch the ball drop with Lily.”

“I’m gonna guess they’ll all be out long before that happens.” He chuckles.

“I’d love a raincheck on a Boone slash Hart hangout.” I smile at Lindsey and Lily.

“What does that mean?” Lily asks me.

“Means next time,” Lindsey tells her.